


Retrograde

by xenoglossia (oncharredwings)



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Cults, Amnesia, Angst, Assassination Attempt(s), Cults, Emotional Manipulation, Flashbacks, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memory Loss, Murder, Nightmares, Past Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Psychological Torture, Torture, Trauma, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 16:20:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17770145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncharredwings/pseuds/xenoglossia
Summary: Roxas wakes up on the side of the road with no memory. He doesn't know how he has a car, where he is, or where he is going.When he meets a red-haired stranger, only seeming to want to help him, his life quickly unravels.





	Retrograde

_And the weather just keeps on spiking with record highs gliding into the weekend, folks. My advice? Stay home and relax in that cool air conditioning. If you can’t beat the heat at home, hit up a public pool and stay safe!_

The radio seems to come to life all of a sudden or maybe he comes back to reality all of a sudden – he’s not sure which because he doesn’t remember how he came to be here. The road stretches out in front of him but he isn’t moving. The car is stalled on the side of the road or maybe he’s stopped the car. He blinks a few times and tries to take stock of the new surroundings.

Outside, there is a desert road and out in the distance, there is only flat land on either side of the road. The sky overhead is blue and the sun is bright. The radio is on a channel he doesn’t recognize and the air conditioning of the car is blasting in his face but he’s still sweating. Reaching up to pull the visor of the car down, he flips the mirror open and notes his face is sunburnt with tan lines from wearing large sunglasses. They’re not on his face now but he notes they’re on the seat beside him.

He pats around his chest and hips until he manages to pull out a small brown wallet. Flipping it open reveals the face in the mirror but without the sunburn. _Roxas_ is the name printed on his ID. He remembers his name but it’s nice to have a confirmation.

“Roxas,” he says out loud to the car.

Everything else, however, is a complete blank hole. He has no idea how he came to own this car – if he even owns this car – or where he’s driving. He doesn’t know anything at all; the last time he ate, had water, the last time he used the bathroom. His bladder isn’t full and his stomach isn’t growling so he can only assume he’s managed to care for basic human needs.

There’s a black cell phone sitting in the console’s cup holder. It flips open and seems older but still turns on after he figures out how to flip the phone to power on. Messages immediately pop up, along with missed calls, and voicemails. He dares to listen to a few, hoping they will give him a clue on what is going on.

_Hey, Roxas, it’s Olette, just wanting to make sure you’re alright? Please, give me a call, okay? My number is saved in your phone. Lea misses you! Call me as soon as you hear this. Just worried._

He doesn’t recognize her voice and he has no idea who Lea is – is Lea a girlfriend? Boyfriend? He has no idea. The next message doesn’t belong to the same number.

_Roxas, it’s Pence. Hey, man, we’re really starting to freak out. You’ve never been gone this long. It’s been like a week. Please, let us know if you’re okay. We’re taking good care of Lea, but he def misses you. Call me!_

Pence. Olette. He doesn’t know or remember any of these people. Are they his family? Roxas combs through other messages but nothing makes sense. Mostly worried messages from Olette, Pence, and one from a Hayner but nothing is clicking any bells in his head. He still doesn’t know who Lea is but apparently, they’re taking care of him.

They want him to come home but he’s not sure where home is located. Panic settles in his chest but he doesn’t allow it to bubble up and out. He takes stock of his car to find a hint as to where he could possibly live or even where he’s located. There is a piece of paper in his pocket; a crumpled up receipt dated 06/12/19 which states he had been at a McDonald’s. His eyes fly back to his ID to see if there is an address listed.

 _358 Station Way_   
_APT 2_ _  
_Twilight Town

“Okay,” Roxas whispers. “You have an address.”

The gas tank is fairly full meaning he must have just filled up before simply pulling over. Letting himself slowly calm and take a few deep breaths helps. Once his heart has stopped pounding so hard, Roxas pulls the car off of the side of the road and starts to drive. There’s a town’s skyline up ahead – maybe it’s the town he calls home.

 _Just keep driving_.

Roxas turns up the radio to listen to the music and decides he likes the beat enough to keep the station on. He doesn’t remember any of the songs or if he ever knew any of them but it’s better than silence. Too much quiet in the car will only send his mind spiraling in pain.

The town is another ten miles down the road but when he makes it to a green sign stating Welcome to Twilight Town he feels a lot better. Now, he just needs to find Station Way. Roxas drives aimlessly for a while until he manages to find a gas station called Station Way. Off of it is the street, which he follows back to some quiet houses. They’re all older, some rundown but he eventually finds 358. It’s a duplex and he hopes the top floor is apartment 2.

There’s a girl sitting on the porch when he pulls up and she immediately leaps to her feet to rush to the car. At first, he doesn’t want to climb out but maybe she’s one of the people worried for him, so he dares to step out onto the gravel driveway.

“Roxas!” she gasps and looks as if she wants to hug him but holds back. “You’re back! God, I was _so_ worried. We all were. Are you okay?”

“I… think so…” he says slowly while he attempts to place her face. The voice is the girl from the voicemail. Olette, she’d said her name was Olette. “You’re… Olette, right?”

“That’s right,” she says with a small nod. “Let’s get you inside, okay? You’re upstairs.”

Roxas follows her up the steps and he manages to figure out which key goes to the apartment and the door swings inward. The first room is the kitchen and there’s a table with two chairs, all empty, and the fridge has a calendar and a small board with information written in neat lettering.

 _Wifi: KH32019Z_   
_Bills: Call Olette 232-890-8998_   
_Lea: Fed 6/27/19_ _  
_Work: N/A

It’s strange to see his life written up in black and white – he knows he’s young and is unsure what is making his memory so faulty but it’s enough to feel depressing. A loud meowing makes him jump and he looks down to see an orange tabby cat rub up against his legs and purr loudly.

“That’s Lea,” Olette says softly.

“ _You’re_ Lea.” Roxas chuckles and slowly offers his fingers which Lea immediately rubs against. Lea, the cat. He smiles and picks up the fat thing and holds him to his chest. “Thank you for taking care of him for me. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Roxas. We know you have problems remembering things. Do you know your birthday?”

“Uh…” Roxas trails off and tries to think – birthday. Surely, he should remember his birthday. “I think it’s August 28th … Right?”

Olette smiles. “That’s right. You’ll be twenty-five.”

Twenty-five.

Seems so strange to think he’s going to be twenty-five but has no memories of the past at all. “Wow,” he whispers. “When did I leave?”

Olette looks down sadly. “You’ve been gone for two weeks. We were so worried you weren’t coming back this time.”

“This time?”

“You’ve done this before but never for this length of time,” Olette admits. “Usually it’s only a day or so… but this time, you were gone for two weeks. Do you have any receipts or cash or anything at all?”  

“I saw a McDonald’s receipt in my pocket,” Roxas admits. “But nothing else.”

“I’ll have to check your bank account- I’m sorry, I know that seems invasive but we do this pretty often,” Olette explains.

“I trust you.” He doesn’t know why he trusts her since he feels as if she’s a complete stranger but a large part of him knows she’s not a stranger at all but a friend. Clearly, she and the other two boys were worried for him and they’d taken care of Lea in his absence.

“I’m glad to hear you say that,” Olette says and smiles again.

“It’s probably irresponsible to have a cat, huh?” he asks softly, his eyes dropping to Lea where he’s still purring, eyes closed, and content.

“Actually, your doctor said it would be beneficial for you to have an animal – help ground you and give you a sense of responsibility for your own life,” Olette says. “We don’t mind caring for him on occasion. This doesn’t happen as often as you think it does. You haven’t gone off for months. The last time you did it was about three months ago? So, you’re doing pretty good!”

Three months ago he disappeared and he doesn’t remember. The knowledge of having a life and not remembering any of it is almost overbearing. He needs to sit down. Olette gives him a tour of the small apartment which mostly consists of the kitchen, a small living area with a couch, and a smaller bedroom with a mattress on the floor. The walls are covered in photographs. Wall to wall.

“Whoa,” he whispers and slowly lets Lea drop from his arms.

“You like to take photos,” Olette says with a warm smile. “So, we take a lot of photos and print them for you! It helps you remember.”

Roxas slowly steps into the room and his fingers trace over them one by one, trying to see if he can recall any of the memories attached to the stolen moments. There’s a few of them all sitting and eating blue ice cream. His eyes widen slightly and the memory comes rushing back.

Sea salt ice cream. Sweet and salty; it’s his favorite.

“We like to get ice cream together,” he whispers. “The sea salt ice cream popsicles.”

“That’s right!” Olette says with a small, excited clap. “You remembered. Oh, Roxas, that’s so _great_. Usually takes you a few days to remember anything. I’m so glad.”

“Sometimes, I help Pence work, right? I… I help him deliver newspapers sometimes and other times I help you at the salon. Right?”

“That’s _right_ . You’re doing so well, Roxas.” Olette points out a few more photos where he is able to recall the moments. A zoo trip with his friends; a trip to the beach; working on Hayner’s motorcycle. These were all mundane moments but they were _his_ moments. The moments with his friends.

Roxas slowly turns to face her and dares to hug her briefly. The touch feels invasive and he doesn’t like it but it’s also grounding and helping him feel safe.

Alive.

 _Real_.

“Thank you, Olette,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I can’t remember a lot.”

“It’s not your fault, Roxas. Hey, how about you come downstairs for dinner? I’ll make your favorite and the boys will come over. We can all sit around and just watch a movie or something. No pressure.”

Roxas nods, his eyes scanning over the photos. “Is that something we do a lot?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” he says quietly. “I’ll join you.”

“Great. I’ll leave you alone, let you re-adjust to your space. Try not to disappear on us again?” Olette smiles and he can hear the tease in her voice but there is an underlying fear there, too. He fears disappearing so soon, too.

“I’ll try,” he replies which is true. He has no plans to up and disappears but he’s not sure he can make a promise to _never_ disappear again if this is a regular habit.

“Good.” Olette waves and heads out.

Roxas remains in the bedroom while he looks over the photos and tries to commit more memories to memory. He doesn’t want to forget his friends again – he doesn’t want to forget his _life_ again. Lea purrs and jumps onto the mattress to curl up and nap. A nap sounds good but Roxas worries when he falls asleep he will forget everything all over again.

Instead, Roxas finds the tiny bathroom and notes there is a first aid kit sitting on the back of the toilet. Probably made by Olette; she seems the type. There is aloe vera in the kit so he slathers some onto the sunburn on his face and arms, taking extra care on his nose which is severely red. Clearly, when he’s in a fugue state, he doesn’t remember sunscreen.

 _Or anything else_.

Once his face no longer feels dryer than the desert, Roxas pulls away from the bathroom to search the apartment for clues to whatever life he lives here or maybe the life he used to live before his memory disappeared. There has to be a hint at the kind of person he is _somewhere_ but the only evidence he can find of his life are the photographs. He doesn’t have many personal items and he has no idea who named his cat. Maybe it came with the name or maybe he plucked it from thin air.

The tangled web of confusion only entangles him further.

Part of him wants to go downstairs and sit with Olette so he’s not so alone but she probably needs to prepare dinner and tell Hayner and Pence about his sudden arrival. How had he even met them? Had they known he had memory issues when they first met or had it just been a giant surprise? There are so many questions he has no answer for and they’re all maddening.

In the end, Roxas lies down on the mattress and Lea eagerly climbs onto his chest to sleep. He slides his fingers into the cat’s soft fur and pets in slow, cathartic motions. Despite fearing sleep, the heaviness of his eyelids drags him down fast and hard with the hope he will still remember when waking.

✧✧✧

“Man, you had us stupidly worried, didn’t he, Pence?” Hayner says while they all sit around a table full of food together. “Do you remember where you went at all?”

“No,” Roxas replies while shoveling mashed potatoes in his face. Olette said she would make his favorite so he can only assume this is his favorite. It’s good but definitely not a favorite.

“I went over your bank account, Roxas,” Olette says slowly. “It looks like you stayed at a motel most of the time.”

“Where?” Roxas asks after swallowing down a mouthful.

“The Sea Sprite near the beach,” Olette says slowly. “Does that have… significance for you?”

The Sea Sprite near the beach. Roxas pauses while he tries to think of what or who a memory of the beach would be attached to but nothing comes to mind. He shakes his head and shrugs. “No idea,” he replies.

“Hey, we should _go_ ,” Hayner says suddenly.

“Go where Hayner?” Pence asks.

“The beach! That sounds fun, right? It’s like three hours from here. We could all go and maybe that’ll jog Roxas’ memory.” Hayner looks proud of his thought process but Olette looks uncertain. “What’s that face for, O?”

“I just… I think that should be up to Roxas to decide,” she replies slowly. “He may not _want_ to remember.”

Not want to remember; he’d never considered not wanting to remember something as important as his life’s events but maybe Olette is right. Maybe his subconscious mind is protecting him from some awful memory and is having trouble making new ones. He wonders if they know what happened to him.

“Do you know what happened to me?” he asks and cuts up a piece of meatloaf. This is good – definitely a favorite. The mashed potatoes are missing something but he has no idea what.

“What happened to you?” Olette asks slowly.

“Like, why I can’t remember anything,” Roxas replies. “Do you know why I can’t remember anything?”

“Oh- well, you have head trauma,” Olette explains in such a soft and kind voice. Maybe she teaches children for a living. _No, she works at a salon, remember?_

“From?” Roxas asks.

Olette sets aside her fork to continue talking, “Well, according to the reports, you were in a bad accident.”

“A car accident?”

“Yes, you were found in a car. You weren’t wearing a seat belt and when you crashed, you jolted forward and up at an angle. Your head went through your windshield and the airbags didn’t deploy. You’re very lucky to be alive at all.”

Roxas stares at his plate and suddenly loses his appetite completely. “Was anyone else hurt?” he whispers even though he dreads the answer. No seatbelt sounds like he’d been making a stupid decision and he can only hope no one had been with him.

“No,” Olette confirms which takes a load off of his mind. “It was strange, actually… I read the report, it’s public record if you want to read it, too… but it said you had crashed against a pole but the way your car was crushed, it’s like someone hit you first. They don’t have any video evidence and there was no one else at the scene.”

“So.. someone hit me and I hit a pole?” Roxas asks slowly.

“Possibly,” Olette replies with a nod. “But no one is certain. It’s a mystery, your accident.”

He continues to stare at his plate and wishes the ketchup on the meatloaf didn’t suddenly make him think of congealed blood. The thought of being left in a car to die after someone hit him is nauseating. What kind of person would walk away after crashing into someone so hard? Why hadn’t he been wearing a seatbelt?

“Do you know if I was drunk?” Roxas asks quietly. The anticipation of an answer leaves him sick.

“There are no reports of alcohol involvement on the accident report,” Olette replies. “But I never saw your tox screen or anything like that. We didn’t know each other then. Your doctor could probably tell me, though, you do have me listed as a contact who can have medical information.”

Roxas frowns. Why would he list a stranger on a medical contact list? His eyes shoot up to her and trace over Olette first and then Hayner and Pence. They don’t seem as if they’re harmful but he feels wary. “What is my doctor’s name?” he asks slowly.

“Oh, I can get you that information.” Olette rises to her feet and dashes away.

“You okay, Rox?” Pence asks but Roxas doesn’t reply. He’s not okay. His stomach is twisting into knots and he’s suddenly extremely uneasy. These people he can’t quite remember, while concerned about him, know too much about his life and are supposedly helping him live it – this new knowledge, however, doesn’t make him feel good.

Olette returns with a folder and she shows him his doctor’s information which he asks for her to write down. He wants to talk to his doctor tomorrow. Hopefully, they would help him set everything straight.

“I know this is all scary, Roxas,” Olette says quietly while sitting down in her chair after giving him the right information. “I know it feels very new and fresh but we’ve had this conversation before. Everything is okay.”

Roxas shakes his head but doesn’t say anything else. He picks up his fork instead to continue eating. “Thanks.”

✧✧✧

The doctor’s office is surprisingly empty when he arrives to sit in the tan and beige waiting room. The chairs are too small around his hips and uncomfortable but he sits still and plays the waiting game. He’s the only one on the list, so he can only hope this will be quick and painless.

“Roxas?” the nurse calls him back. “How are you doing today?”

Olette had offered to come with him but Roxas had denied her company. “I’m fine,” he replies quietly while following her to the back.

“That’s good to hear. I’ll have you stand on the scale.”

He steps on the scale so she can record his weight and they head to a whitewashed room. On the wall is a large photo of some autumn foliage which feels a strange sight in a desert town. She asks more questions, some about his health, mental state, and sexual life. He has no idea how to truthfully answer, especially the sex questions, because he has no idea if he’s ever had sex.

So, he just says no to everything. It’s easiest.

“Great, well, the doctor will be back shortly, okay?”

“Okay,” he replies with a shrug. He’s really only here for answers, not because he needs to be seen so he’s not in a huge hurry.

The nurse leaves and Roxas sits on the table with his feet dangling comically high off of the floor. His eyes focus on the white tile to start counting them but then he gasps at the sudden feeling and flash of a memory filling his mind.

                _The room smells a lot like antiseptic and cleaning solution. Soft beeping fills his ears and for a moment he feels so disoriented he’s not sure which way is up or down. Panic seizes his gut and Roxas grabs the wires from his arm and yanks them free. The whiteness of the room reminds him of labs – is he being experimented on? From the looks of the charts on the walls and machines all around him, there is a high possibility._

_Sitting up, Roxas takes stock of the room and notes there is a bag full of clothes on a chair which he quickly changes into – they don’t fit. The pants are too short and the shirt is too big but they are better than nothing. There are a pair of tennis shoes on the floor and he yanks them on. Since he pulled the machines off of his body, his arm is bleeding, and something is making a loud sound but he ignores them in favor of rushing for the door._

_A nurse almost runs into him and looks completely shocked to see him upright. “Oh! Oh my God, Roxas- you shouldn’t be out of bed-.”_

_Roxas._

_His name._

_“I’m leaving,” he says as she tries to grab him. “You can’t keep me here!”_

_“Roxas! Calm down!” She yells some medical jargon he doesn’t know but he’s shoving her off in favor of running. He runs down the hall, despite the team of doctors running after him. Rounding the corner, he almost runs into a man with shocking red hair but pays him no mind so he can keep running._

_He has to escape. He has to go. He doesn’t know exactly why but he knows his life is in danger._

“Roxas?”

The voice startles him out of his memory and he looks up to see the doctor standing in the room looking extremely concerned. “Uh- I didn’t hear you come in,” he says quickly.

“Are you feeling alright? You look pale. Do you know where you are?”

“Yeah, the doctor’s office,” Roxas says quickly. “You’re Dr. Gainsborough.”

“Yes,” she says slowly. “Did something happen?”

“I just- I looked at the floor and I just remembered I… I ran away from a hospital… right? Or a lab or- or something-.”

“Yes,” Dr. Gainsborough confirms. “You ran away from the hospital when you woke up from a coma post your accident. We only know that because you told us and when we managed to find your medical records, I was able to call the hospital for confirmation. Do you remember running here?”

“No,” he whispers. “I mean- I remember running but I don’t remember coming here specifically.”

“That’s alright, I know sometimes it’s very hard for you to remember daily activities or motives. You’re suffering from long-term amnesia. We call that retrograde amnesia,” Dr. Gainsborough explains and her voice is gentle and kind. He wants to wrap up in her voice like a warm blanket. “May I ask what brings you here today?”

“I want to know what happened,” he says. “I want the whole story. I want to know what’s going on with me and why I’m entrusting my medical knowledge to people I hardly know.”

“I see… Well, I think this is best explained in my office. How about we move there?” She opens the exam room door and gestures for him to follow. “I, unfortunately, do not know the events leading up to your accident, only the aftermath.”

“Fine.” He follows her to the office which is less drab than the waiting room. The walls are a deep teal with white trim and there are paintings of flowers on each wall not covered in bookshelves or filing drawers. It’s clean and tidy. There’s even a couch in the corner.

“You are welcome to sit there if you want,” Dr. Gainsborough gestures to the couch. “It’s pretty comfortable.”

The couch is cream in color and seems to fold around him as he sits. She wasn’t wrong on it being comfortable.

“So, Roxas,” Dr. Gainsborough says while she pulls up a chair to sit across from him. “Where do you want to start?”

“I was admitted to the hospital from an accident. What happened? That you know of?”

“You were brought to the emergency room after being extracted from your vehicle that evening. You had extensive head injuries – contusions, hematoma, a severe concussion, and a neck fracture. You were very lucky to be alive at that point.”

“I survived those injuries,” he says slowly.

“Yes.”

“But when I woke up in the hospital, I panicked- how long had I been in a coma?”

“You were in the coma for three months. By that point, your neck fracture had healed and so had your brain injuries. You were, luckily, not brain damaged as far as we knew but at the time, we weren’t sure about you being in the coma for so long. Some patients can fall into a coma for years and wake up fine, others need a lot of work. We weren’t sure about you.”

“But then I woke up,” he whispers. “I panicked and fled the hospital.” He can hear himself repeating the same thing over and over but, for now, it’s the only information he has in a new concrete memory.

“Yes,” she replies. “Do you remember _anything_ from your time after leaving the hospital to coming here?”

“No.”

“What is the last thing you can remember, Roxas?”

“I woke up on the side of the road in a car yesterday,” Roxas says. “My… friends… said I was gone for two weeks but the last time I’d done that was three months ago and only for a day. So, I’ve been here for longer than three months at least. I don’t remember how I got here or how I started a life. I don’t… remember picking out my cat, I don’t remember getting a car, an ID, nothing. It’s all blank.”

Dr. Gainsborough looks concerned as her brows knit together. “Roxas, I’d like to do an CT scan of your brain. Would you be able to stay here for a while? I can get it scheduled today. You’re welcome to stay in my office. I will walk you down personally when it’s time.”

He takes a few deep breaths through his nose. “How long have I been here, Dr. Gainsborough?”

“You have been a resident of Twilight Town, to _my_ knowledge, for the past six months.”

A lump forms in the back of his throat. “Where… where did I come from? I mean- the hospital I ran from.”

“The hospital you ran from is up north. I don’t know the exact mileage but it’s roughly over two hundred miles from here.”

A resonant cold slides into place over Roxas’ body as he takes in all of this information. He’s two hundred miles away from a place he might have called home, giving his medical information to strangers, and he’s been here for six months minimum. He has no memories of those six months. Tears burn the back of his eyes and he flinches when she reaches to touch his arm. Touching is not something he’s accustomed to; he definitely doesn’t enjoy it.

“I know you’re afraid,” Dr. Gainsborough says quietly. “I understand, and I wish I could take your fear away. Please, you can call me Aerith if that will make you more comfortable. I’m going to order a CT, I just want to make sure you haven’t reinjured yourself or experienced any trauma you may not recall in the past two weeks. Okay?”

“Okay.”

The answers come out succinct because he feels a giant numb spot in his chest where his heart should reside. Six months vanished from memory – arguably, twenty-five years vanished from memory. He can only recall the past day.

The tears finally start to slide down his face in fear.

✧✧✧

One CT scan later, Roxas is back to his life.

                _“Why do I let strangers have my medical information?” he’d asked Aerith after the CT scan had been completed._

_“You’re referring to Ms. Olette, right?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Well, I know she feels like a stranger but you asked her about three months of living here if she would be your medical proxy. You had paperwork signed… It’s just a precaution. The hospital needed someone to rely on for you since, as far as we know, you have no known family. I know it’s.. frightening.”_

_Roxas shook his head. He didn’t want someone he barely knew to know his information. “I don’t want her on that list anymore,” he said firmly. “I just don’t like the idea of it.”_

_“I’m not sure that is the best idea, Roxas, and I must work toward your best interests and advise you, that is not in your best interest. You need someone who will be able to handle your medical needs in case of an emergency or if you are not competent enough to handle them yourself. Do you understand?”_

_Roxas rolled his eyes. He didn’t like being patronized but he walked out of the office with nothing changed. She told him she would have his results in a few days._

He’s sitting at the salon with Olette because it’s a slow day and he’d had nothing else to do. Lea is probably still sleeping and cats are not the most interesting of companions to begin with in his opinion. They don’t go out for walks and they don’t like to play fetch or do anything other than run around at early hours of the morning.

“You look tired, Roxas,” Olette says. “Maybe we _should_ go to the beach this weekend but not so you can remember something. Just to get away. Does that sound fun?”

Fun.

What a strange and foreign concept. He has no idea what fun is or if he’s ever had it before. “Have I had fun prior to this?” he asks, voice dull and bitter.

“Yes,” Olette replies. “You love getting ice cream with us. You’ve seen the photos, Roxas.”

He has seen the photos and he does have a few memories but they come and go like faded photographs from his mind. He asked Aerith if his mind would ever heal itself and she told him it may never be the same again or he could wake up one day and remember everything.

                _“The mind is a tricky thing, Roxas. We can never really know if it will completely fix itself. Sometimes, it does, sometimes, it does not. The longer this goes on, the less likely it is to resolve itself but that does not mean a trigger will not suddenly help you remember past events. Just like the tile on the floor triggered a flashback. I believe your memory is still there but locked away for your own protection.”_

_“Are you saying I have a roadblock in my memory?”_

_“Perhaps. Sometimes, a lot of times, trauma can block out important events in our memories and your head injury did not help. Once I have the results of your CT scan, I will know more. I promise, I just want to help.”_

Oddly enough, Roxas felt he could trust her – maybe it was her kind voice or because she wears the white doctor’s coat. He trusts she will, at the very least, try to honestly help him.

“Roxas?” Olette asks.

“What?”

“Did you want to go to the beach this weekend? I think it might be good for you- for all of us. We’ll just get you a big hat to hide under. Don’t want to worsen that sunburn on your face.” Olette smiles and Roxas feels slightly at ease. He knows she doesn’t mean to upset him.

He’s not even sure _what_ he’s upset about when it comes to her since she’s never done anything to make him doubt her kind intentions. There’s just a level of unease he feels lately and it won’t go away. Maybe his mind is just paranoid after being on an auto-pilot vacation for two weeks.

“We can do that,” he says after a pregnant pause. “I guess it would be nice to see the ocean.”

“Good. I’ll let the boys know. I’m sure Pence will drive. He has a big Jeep we usually pack all of our stuff into.”

“Who is going to watch Lea?” he asks.

“Oh, we can find someone to watch him,” Olette says with a nod. “One of our neighbors can probably pet sit. I’ll ask around, okay? I promise I’ll let you approve of who watches him.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to step into the back so I can let the boys know about this weekend. If anyone comes in, just give a shout, alright?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks, Roxas.”

Olette disappears into the back and he remains up front, rocking back and forth in a salon chair. The hair on his head is wild and probably in need of a trim but he’s too afraid to change his looks. This hair seems _right_. If it were to grow any longer, he would want to trim it and keep it at this length. It’s wild and messy but it looks correct on his face.

At least, one thing in his life feels right.

Roxas spins in the chair and the flash of a red bottle makes his mind fly back to the time at the hospital. He’d run into a man with red hair on his way out. The red had been as unnatural as the red of the bottle and his hair thick and wild, hanging past his shoulders and pushed back from his face. He’d worn all black.

Roxas frowns.

The man seems so familiar but the face is still a slight mystery – like a mannequin’s face that could belong to anyone. There are no distinctions to draw the face back into memory. Just the hair color and black clothes.

 _That could be anyone_ , he chastises. No one important, at least.

Roxas shakes his head and dismisses the thought away. Just a stranger in a strange town he doesn’t know. Olette comes back a while later and he lets her know he’s going to walk home – he wants fresh air and to rest with Lea for a while.

“Okay, I’ll call you later?”

“Sure.”

The salon is not far from the duplex they share so Roxas takes the quickest route he can remember. The neighborhood is decent looking during the afternoon and there are kids outside playing. He ignores them in favor of walking with his hands in his pockets, still haunted by the man with red hair.

Why did he matter so much?

“I don’t know,” he whispers to no one in particular while he walks up to the door of his apartment. Lea greets him at the door and they go back to the bedroom to lie on the mattress together. The room is dark since he has the curtains pulled shut.

The pictures surround him in a story he can hardly remember writing. There are bits and pieces here and there but everything is so scattered and insignificant. Lea eventually grows bored and starts to bat something around on the floor. It clinks heavily on the wooden floor which makes Roxas frown. It sounds like metal.

“Lea,” he says, snapping his fingers. “Quit.”

Lea makes a noise which sounds a lot like _screw you_ before leaving the room entirely. He rolls his eyes but manages to crawl halfway off of the mattress to grab whatever he’d found. The object is surprisingly heavy and when Roxas crawls back to his mattress he notes it’s a silver ring. His eyes widen at the simple band; there are no engravings or embellishments on the outside but on the inside, there is a small engraving.

_Day 358_

Eyebrows pulling together, Roxas turns the ring over and over in his hand before slipping it over his ring finger – it fits perfectly. Clearly, the ring belongs to him even if he can’t quite make sense of it. Lea returns and he’s carrying something in his mouth all glittering. Roxas sighs and rolls over to take it away and notes it’s a silver chain. Broken. Probably belonging to the ring; he must have worn it around his neck and not on his finger.

“Where did you find this stuff?” he asks and slowly stands to follow Lea back into the living room.

On the floor is an upturned box which he had missed before because of where it is hiding between the couch’s arm and the wall. Kneeling, Roxas slowly picks up the box and the contents inside, trying to keep them all inside as he flips the box over. There are photographs, a blank journal with torn out pages, and newspaper clippings.

The clippings are all regarding the car accident he’d been in but there is no new information. They were all littered with just enough information to leave him questioning everything but nothing he didn’t already know from Olette and Aerith.

The journal is bound in black leather and the missing pages are all throughout and inconsistent which makes about as much sense as anything else in his life. The ring necklace must have come from this box. Eventually, he flips the photographs over and notes they’re all of him. There’s no one else in the photos – just him. Smiling, laughing, having a good time. There’s one of him lying in bed, shirtless, an embarrassed smile on his face.

Roxas traces his thumb over the image and flips it over. A date on the back reads _Roxas 08/22/2017._

The photo is two years old. He frowns and flips the photo to the front again. The image is intimate, taken by someone who knew him closely. Had he had a lover two years ago? Had he fled them and gotten into an accident? Had his lover _caused_ his accident?

A teardrop falls and stains the photo which makes him jump but he quickly shoves the photos back into the box. Maybe he’d found the box two weeks ago and, upset, he’d left. Lea sits on the floor, staring up at him calmly, looking content. Roxas flips the ring around on his fingers before shoving it into his pocket.

He would buy a new chain at the beach.

“Want something to eat?” he asks Lea.

Lea meows his acceptance and dashes to the kitchen. Roxas rises to his feet and wonders if his life will ever fall into place.

✧✧✧

Sandy beaches and crystal clear water draw a lot of tourists to the beach but with the thread of a darkening storm on the horizon, the area is surprisingly clear of people. They arrive after too many stops in Roxas’ opinion but maybe this haphazard traveling is normal for them. He’s not sure.

While Olette, Pence, and Hayner argue over how long they should stay and how they should set up, Roxas follows the path down onto the sands and slowly takes his shoes off so he can feel the sand beneath his toes. It’s not as warm as he thought it would be but it is soft on his feet. The sands are grainy and perfectly white. The sun dapples between the clouds while the black storm clouds roll in closer.

Ocean water is brilliantly blue and clear; he can see all the way to the bottom of the ocean bed but there are no fish or creatures swimming as far as he can see. Must be already hiding from the storm. There is a wooden dock stretching out onto the ocean water and Roxas dares to walk out to the end. The further out he walks the darker the water grows until he’s staring into deep cerulean.

Seagulls fly overhead but instead of diving into the water for food they pass through the skies off toward the mainland. The storm is probably going to be worse than the weatherman predicted. Coming here may not have been a good idea.

The Sea Sprite is not far from the ocean but he doesn’t want to go back there. There is a fear nestled in his chest of what he may remember if he goes back inside or of what a hotel attendant may tell him. The silver ring seems to burn a hole in the pocket of his jeans, burning his thigh as a reminder of its existence.

If they stay too long they’ll be caught in the storm but if they leave now they’ll probably be driving in the storm. He’s not sure which is worse. He likes storms – they feel calming even though he supposes they should be frightening. He’s glad he’s well enough to remember he likes storms.

“Roxas!” Olette calls. “Get off of the dock! That storm is coming in fast!”

Roxas turns his eyes to the fast-approaching clouds and then slowly looks back over his shoulder. For a moment, when he blinks, she looks like a girl black hair. He frowns but then the image fades and Olette looks just like Olette.

A girl he knew from another point in his life?

“Roxas, c’mon!” Olette calls again and waves him to come closer.

The sky seems to darken like a blanket is placed across the sky, blotting out all memory of the sun from a moment ago. The wind whipping across the ocean water is cold and reaches down into his bones. Roxas runs but the rain is faster than his legs. He almost slips on the slippery dock but manages to catch himself. Olette looks horrified but once he reaches her, they run back to the Jeep where they’re both hurrying to climb inside. He sits in the back, shivering and shaking, while Olette sits up front by Pence.

“Came out of nowhere!” Hayner gasps while the rain pounds down on the car so heavily they can’t even see the palm trees they’re parked under.

“Yeah,” Pence pants. “I can’t even drive in this. Not even with the lights on.”

“We’ll just ride it out,” Olette says. “Too dangerous to drive in this.”

“Hey, man, you want a towel?” Hayner asks him and turns to pull out two beach towels, one for him, and one for Olette.

He takes the towel and wraps it around his shoulders, feeling his teeth chatter helplessly. The towel is at least dry and he’s able to feel a little warmth return to his body while Hayner tries to leave the heat on for the two of them despite how warm it is outside. The windows fog up and eventually, Roxas can feel how sleepy his body becomes while wrapped in a towel, head pressed against the window of the Jeep while the others talk quietly.

Argue.

Argue about coming today after seeing the weather.

He’s too tired to remind them there are always rainbows after storms.

Sleep washes over him like the tumultuous waves outside on the water dragging him down into the dark.

                _There is a house on a hill hidden between the trees. The hill isn’t a big hill – more of an incline while the greenery around conceals its wooden plank walls. Small, probably only a few rooms, but it looks sturdy in the quiet morning sunlight. Around him, animals chirp and chatter peacefully. The world feels still while he walks up the path toward the house. He knows this house and in his hand is a key which he uses to open the front door._

_The door opens onto a living room with a makeshift couch and a table made with cinder blocks and wooden planks. No televisions or technology in sight but the windows have a white sheet acting as curtains. The windows are open allowing the sheet to blow gently in the breeze. Everything smells of earth and pine._

_Soft sounds in the back of the house draw him further in and he sees a man standing in the kitchen. He’s tall, his back facing Roxas. On his back is a full tattoo, sprawling out in black swirls and symbols he doesn’t know or understand. The image is nonsensical and almost makes his eyes want to shut. His eyes float up toward the man’s face but he can only see the back of his head._

_His hair is red._

_“Morning, Roxas,” he says but there is no voice. Roxas blinks in confusion as the man clearly speaks but he cannot truly hear him. As if the man is speaking in subtitles._

_“Who are you?” Roxas asks, his hand reaching out to touch the man’s shoulder. Upon contact, the man splinters into pieces of shattered glass and they scatter across the kitchen floor. He startles and notes there is blood on the floor. He glances down and sees his hands are covered in crimson._

_On his palm, carved by something sharp, bleeds the Roman Numeral XIII._

“Roxas!”

He starts awake when someone shakes him and he realizes Hayner, Pence, and Olette are all looking at him in alarm. He stares back at them and tries to quickly collect their faces so he can ground himself in the moment. His name is Roxas, he lives in Twilight Town with his new friends, they’re at the beach. It had been raining but the sky looks clear now.

“Are you alright?” Hayner asks. “You were screaming.”

“I was?” he whispers.

“Yeah, it was scary,” Pence replies. “Maybe we should go home.”

“Yeah, maybe we should,” Olette agrees. “There’s more rain on the horizon, too. We can come back another time on a better day. Agree?”

Roxas nods slowly while he shakes off the fear from the nightmare. “Agree,” he gasps.

The man’s empty face returns to his memory. His hair was red. Just like the memory. Maybe he isn’t so crazy after all. Maybe, the red-haired man is important. The thought attempts to connect to something he can remember but nothing surfaces. A tangle of webs he can’t unravel. Tears fill his eyes again and he slowly drops his head against the window of the Jeep as they start heading home.

“Hey, Roxas, do you want to have ice cream when we get back?” Olette asks. “I feel bad we didn’t really get to enjoy the beach.”

Sea salt ice cream.

The red-haired man likes sea salt ice cream, too. He doesn’t know why he knows this but he knows this so certainly in his heart. His heart beats quietly and his eyes stare numbly out the window.

“Sure,” he mutters.

"Great. We'll have ice cream and really live it up. We can make a pretend beach!" 

Roxas quickly tunes them out and focuses on the thrum in his chest. His heart beats quietly, humming against his ribcage, to help ground him in the moment. He can hear it whisper in his ear: _It hurts, it hurts, it hurts_.


End file.
